On Monday, I posted to celebrate NZ Women’s Suffrage week—celebrating the 121st anniversary, on 19 September, of NZ women gaining the vote (the first country in the world to do so.) I have tried to do so in  a personal way by celebrating the women characters in my novels: heroes, villains, and a few less prominent characters for good measure.

Again on Monday,  I began with the cast of women characters in The Heir Of Night, The Wall Of Night Book One, in part because the lead character, Malian of Night, is female.

Today, I thought we’d look at Thornspell, where—since Thornspell is a retelling of Sleeping Beauty from the perspective of the prince—the lead character is male. But there is still a substantial representation of female characters. So in honor of Suffrage Week and 19 September 1893:

Celebrate NZ Women’s Suffrage Week—& Meet Some Of The Women Characters From Thornspell

With one exception, I thought I’d introduce the Thornspell cast in the order they appear in the book, starting with…

Meet Auld Hazel

Auld Hazel, in fact, defines the whole start of the book, when a very young prince (Sigismund) meets her on the edge of the enchanted wood.

“It had been very dark and quiet beneath the canopy, a heavy, listening silence. There was no call of bird or insect, no whisper of a falling leaf – not even the wind stirred. Sigismund had felt the fine hairs lifting along his forearms and up the back of his neck, and taken a step back.

“Wise boy.” The voice that spoke was dry as one leaf skeleton settling on another. Sigismund had whipped around, but saw nothing until there was a stirring between two, downbent hazel trees and a crone hobbled out. She must have been gathering firewood along the forest fringe, for there was a load of bundled sticks on her back and she had to twist her head to look at him. Her eyes were sharp and bright as a blackbird’s, but sunk into the weathered seams of her face. Sigismund had thought she looked a little like an old tree herself, knotted and twisted with the years, although she moved more like the blackbird, coming close to him with a light, hopping step.

She was lame, he saw then, that was why she hopped. He stared, half shocked, half delighted, when he saw that she was puffing on a small, flat bowled pipe. A thread of smoke rose from it, curling into a question mark above the glow of orange embers…

Light and shadow flickered across the seamed face like sun through shifting leaves, and her laugh was a cackle, dry as her first words. … “Stay away from t’ wood though, ‘ee should.”

Meet the Margravine zu Malvolin

No Sleeping Beauty retelling would be complete without that arch-villain, the wicked fairy. In the Thornspell version, this is the Margravine zu Malvolin who—fittingly—appears almost as early as Auld Hazel.

“The lady’s face was hidden by her wide brimmed hat with its extravagant swirl of white plumes, but Sigismund could see the fall of golden hair across one shoulder. Her dress was of sapphire blue silk and her gloves were stitched with gold thread, and extended halfway up her arms. Sigismund thought, seeing her hair and her graceful step, that she must be young, but when she was close enough for him to see her face, he was not so sure. It was unlined that face, smiling and very fair, with eyes as blue as cornflowers, but he did not think she was young – not in the way that Annie, who dusted his room in the castle and giggled a lot, was young.

Sigismund swung down from saddle and bowed, lower than was required from a King’s son, and the lady’s smile deepened. She held out her gloved hand, touching his fingers through the gate.

“Hello, chance met stranger,” she said, and her voice was sweet and clear as a note struck on crystal. Sigismund blinked.

“I am the Margravine zu Malvolin,” the lady continued…”

Meet Syrica

And then, of course, there’s the good fairy—or faie, in this tale—who counteracted the Margravine’s death spell with the hundred years’ sleep…

“…a spray of overhanging green was lifted back and a woman in a white dress stepped out, onto the circle of bricks. It was the woman from his illness, Sigismund was sure of that, although she seemed younger, with dark curls piled on top of her head and falling in a cascade down her back. There was a pattern of leaves and flowers sprigged lightly across her white skirt, just as in the mosaic, but her expression was grave, her eyes dark … The lady’s smile had a great deal of sweetness in it, but the gravity returned swiftly. “I am called Syrica,” she said. “I wait and I watch – over those who dwell in this castle and the wood that is your neighbour. My purpose is to thwart the lady you met on the road.”

“The Margravine zu Malvolin?” asked Sigismund. The name slipped from his tongue as easily as if he had never forgotten it, and this time he remembered her blue eyes smiling at him, and the tinkle of her laughter.

“Yes,” said Syrica. “She is my enemy, as she is yours. She will do you harm, if she can.”
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Meet Rue:

Any prince on a quest, especially to undo a hundred-year-old spell, also needs allies—but may find them in unlikely places.

“He turned away, kicking through a deeper drift, and saw that there was a girl standing beneath the bare crown of an elder tree. A sparrow fluttered into the branches, followed by another, and then a third, until there was a small flock of them preening and fluttering their feathers above her head. Her chemise and skirt, brown as the sparrows, blended with the dreary colours in the garden, but Sigismund was still surprised that he hadn’t noticed her before.

She looked like a servant, he thought, a girl from the scullery or laundry, with the ragged hem of her skirt stopping a few inches clear of bare, brown ankles. Her feet were thrust into the wooden shoes worn by the lower servants, and her hands were scratched, her hair a snarl of brown curls. She had a leaf caught above one ear, and was looking at him sidelong beneath a tangle of dark lashes – a shy look, he decided after a moment, rather than sly …

“I wonder what your name is?” he asked, taking a step towards her.

Her smile was small and crooked, but it lifted the gravity of her expression and let a flash of mischief in. She lifted one finger, indicating herself, then pointed to the herb growing against the wall, and then back at herself again.

“Rue?” he asked, and she smiled…”

Meet the Sleeping Princess

Without whom there would be no tale, in any of its numerous tellings and retellings.

“The room was choked with briars, some of them thick as his wrist and all armed with long, cruel thorns, but he could just make out a bed through the tangle. There was a young woman sleeping on it, with golden hair so long that it spilled across the bed and down, onto the leaf strewn floor. It was held back from her face by a delicate, jewelled coronet, and Sigismund stared, knowing this was the most beautiful face he would ever see.”

Meet Annie

Do you remember Annie, who was young and giggled a lot? She may only play a small part, but she has her place in the story, nonetheless.

“…and then Annie came with his meal on a tray, swishing the curtains closed against the night and lighting the candles. She brought a bowl of lilac too, its scent filling the room as she lingered, chatting while he ate. She seemed cheerful, but did not giggle as much as Sigismund remembered; he supposed that was not surprising, given that they were both older now. Grown up, he thought, with a slight feeling of surprise.”
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Witches and faie, great ladies and servant girls, heroes and villains, guides and friends and lovers—they are all part of the Thornspell world’s complement of women and essential to the success of the story.

To check out the cast of leading women from The Heir Of Night, click on:

I Celebrate NZ Women’s Suffrage—By Celebrating My Women Characters: Part 1, The Heir Of Night

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To read more about September 19 and NZ women’s suffrage, check out:

Christchurch City Libraries: Votes For Women — 19 September 1893

Te Ara, The Encyclopedia of New Zealand: Voting Rights

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